The 1%

“Testing, testing, how do I know when this thing is recording? Damnit, I was never any good with fancy tech.”

I peer inside the hollo-locket Grandpa gave me on our last day together. He had squirrelled it away as we scavenged through an old tech store for usable parts. It was meant to be a gift for my 18th birthday.

As we sat together in our last fleeting moments, Grandpa pressed a small wooden box into my hands. The ornate box flipped open to reveal a glistening heart-shaped locket. Inside the locket was an inscription that read “tell your story.” The pendant shone with almost ethereal beauty in contrast to the dingy cottage Grandpa and I called home.

“It records hologram videos,” grandpa explained. “This way, no matter what happens, you can tell our story. There aren't many of us left. Someone must remember what we accomplished… and how we murdered the world with good intentions. Those who forget their history, are doomed to repeat it. Don't let your story end here, you're better than this ruddy old shack. Take the skills I've taught you, and write this world a better ending.”

My eyes begin to mist as I recall that dreadful day two months ago. I've barely spoken a word since Grandpa's death. There's nobody to talk to anyway. At first, I spoke to myself, filling the silence with muttering and musings. I began to wonder if, perhaps, talking to myself meant I was going crazy. Since then I have been silent, with the exception of a few exasperated curses.

It's time to break the silence. Today I will record the tale of our world's demise, and begin to write the story of our future.

Finally, I locate the switch to start recording and a little blue light begins to blink. I hang the necklace on a nail that juts crookedly out of the wall and step back. A sudden wave of anxiety washes over me, as though I'm speaking to a crowd in some distant future. And here I was, thinking that social anxiety was extinct.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I lock eyes on the pendant and imagine my grandfather's expectant blue eyes twinkling back at me. This is it, ACTION!

“Today is my 18th birthday. I'm officially an adult, whatever that's worth when you may be the only person on earth. It's been four years since I've seen another living person, besides Grandpa. He's gone now too. I am utterly alone in this world. I know all teenagers are supposed to say stuff like that but, honestly, I would give my left foot for some normal teenage drama.

I guess I should start at the beginning. At least, the beginning of the end.

With the population growing larger every day, and consumerism running rampant across the globe, our planet was falling to ruin. Entire countries starved as crops wilted and rivers ran dry.

In 2035 the world's largest pharmaceutical manufacturers joined together. Under the new banner of PharmLife International, they collaborated in producing a new breed of supplements. A full day's worth of nutrients could now be taken in three easy doses of VitaLife. The devastation of hunger became a thing of the past.

As the population healed, demand for VitaLife skyrocketed. New production facilities popped up across the world, rapidly choking out the few natural resources that struggled to survive our torment. Normal food production was nearly impossible, but the people no longer seemed to care. They were willing to overlook the devastation in favour of convenience and ignorant bliss. Real food became the world's highest-priced commodity. It was only enjoyed by the wealthy on special occasions. A single apple cost upwards of five thousand dollars.

Water rationing forbade the production of all recreational drinks like coffee, soda, and alcohol. The medical community was quick to replace their banished vices with a new line of supplements. The BestLife series was a hit, selling out as fast as it could be produced.

Eight years ago, in 2049, PharmLife released their newest achievement. GoGetter was a productivity booster intended to allow users to stay awake for up to three days with no side effects. It was designed to chemically counteract any signs of fatigue or mental imbalance.

PharmLife had pushed their new drug through a rapid trial phase, skipping standard procedures in favour of testing their new medical simulator. The machine ran artificial human testing programs to evaluate and adjust new chemical recipes. With nothing more than a digital success on the books, they rushed the new drug into production and onto shelves worldwide.

In the beginning, GoGetter appeared to work exactly as planned. Productivity shot up in every industry as people jumped at the chance to have ‘more’ time. Even I couldn’t resist the call, snagging a few capsules from my mother's purse one night as the pressure of mounting schoolwork weighed on me. If I had known back then I never would have...

Two weeks after the official release, GoGetter began to show its true nature. Roughly thirty percent of the population had extreme adverse effects. Repeated use of the new drug caused permanent damage to the human brain. Users became unable to sleep at all, causing mass hysteria and manifesting aggressive bouts of psychosis. The terrified masses became crazed, attacking anyone around them. Adrenaline coursed unbridled through their systems giving them almost inhuman strength. Friends and neighbours tore viciously through each other like rabid zombies before taking their own lives or being cut down by Enforcers. The casualties of that first wave numbered in the millions before we inevitably lost count.

With the population decimated, and society in flames, global functions ground to a halt. Supplement production quickly faltered and the world plunged into devastation. Millions of people starved in lineups waiting for even the smallest morsel of food. In the end, it was estimated that about 1% of the population could survive on our remaining resources.

My mother was claimed by the madness early in the outbreak. She had been binging GoGetter since the day it launched, trying to catch up on a heaping pile of paperwork. She hadn’t slept in over a week. One night while making dinner, something inside my mother snapped. She attacked my father with a ferocity I had never seen in her usually-gentle features. Dad shouted to run as he struggled to restrain the creature that had been my mother only moments before. Without looking back, I bolted from the kitchen and out the front door.

I ran full-tilt for three blocks and slammed into Grandpa's door, slumping to the ground. Terrified sobs wracked my body as I begged the universe that Grandpa was okay.

The door swung open to reveal a pair of familiar brown leather shoes. Grandpa swept me up into the house, locking the door tightly behind us. As I relayed the shaky details of my flight from home, grandpa began to hastily shove any supplies he could into an olive-green military duffle. It had been his suitcase, and trusted companion, for as long as I could remember. Mother was always nagging him to replace it. His response never changed.

‘This bag is my good luck charm. We've been to hell and back, she always gets me home safe. If a things not broke, don't fix it.’

It turns out, he was right.

After gathering his few remaining treasures, and anything useful that fit in the old truck, we set off into the night.

Fires blazed out of control around the city, engulfing the sky in a noxious cloud. Bodies lay discarded in the streets. The rising death toll left emergency workers scrambled, unable to contain the carnage of this unprecedented armageddon.

Somehow, Grandpa and I managed to escape the waves of horror that ravaged our world. We tucked ourselves away underground for two years, scouring the radio waves for any sliver of information.

Grandpa's father had been what people once called a ‘prepper’. His childhood home was built on top of an off-the-books bunker. The small underground unit was fully stocked with food and old-school military surplus wares. It kept us safe long after the radio fell silent. Eventually, the rations dwindled dangerously low. We had to go back. Hiding was never meant to be a permanent solution anyway.

When we finally returned to the surface, our greatest fear was realized. The world above had become an empty, desolate wasteland. Grandpa would disappear for days in search of food before we finally coerced the soil into granting us new life. In all of our years scavenging the nearby cities, we found no signs of life or true civilization.

I can’t say for sure how the rest of the world is doing, however, one thing has become horrifyingly clear. There will be no rescue. If there is life or normalcy somewhere out there, it has forsaken us. Those “lucky” few who cling to life have been left to rot in this carcass built of our own hubris.

Today, my life begins anew. I am leaving this old cabin behind in search of hope, wherever it may be. I have to believe that I am not alone in this vast resilient world.

I've collected a bag of seeds to plant along my journey. Like a modern-day Johnny Appleseed, I will sow the path to a new era. If you're watching this video, it must mean I was right. I am not alone. With any luck, there should be a winding river of lush edible plants flowing from this garden. Follow the path. If I am still alive, you should find me at the end of your journey. Welcome to the world's highest-stakes game of hide and seek.”

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